The Great Cabin

"I am not adverse to the idea, if coffee is to be had."

Padstowe made his way over to the table. "And as for speaking out, it was my duty to do so. Your parole was taken by the army, and under the army's conditions you have not broken it - so in my opinion, confinement in the manner suggested by Captain Bolitho was unacceptable."

At that point Padstowe suddenly remembered something.

"A moment, if you please."

He made his way over to his cabin as swiftly as possible, then returned with Raoul's sword.

"This is still in your possession, capitaine."

Raoul held out his hand for it, slightly flushed. "I think I am not as free of guilt as I ought to be - I responded rather too quickly to provocation, and ... But I did not strike first, only more successfully." He took the sword nonetheless. "But thank you. Even though I will not need to wear it, I am glad to have it returned."

"A gentleman and his sword; ne'er the twain should be separated." Padstowe shrugged his good shoulder. "That's how it's always been, I think; unless the gentleman happened to be a parson. Or a lawyer. Or a doctor. Though in the case of our doctor I do not know if that is strictly the case."

Markham brought coffee - having seemingly overheard the capitaine's comment for neither'd yet had the chance to ask for it - setting it on the table and then departing again.

Raoul leaned the sword against the chair, took the coffee and poured some into the two cups. "The doctor can fight with sword or pistol," he said, and thought: or with his own head. "As we have seen. But I expect he would not if he were visiting the sick."

"I would not think so, no. Thank you. In the case of the sick his tongue is usually sharp enough to subdue the most unwilling patient."

"He was kindness itself to my men in Belem - Thierry in particular." Raoul sipped at his coffee. "But you are right - he can be very sharp..."

He looked across at Padstowe. "He is going to need to rest before the operation. When he came to see me, he was looking fatigued, and ..." He bit his lip and after a second's pause continued. "I think his head still troubles him."

Padstowe nodded.

"His leg as well, I believe. He left both untended for far too long; yet I admit that I have no idea as to how to make him rest. He has a new patient, and though he has inherited two, I am assured, very capable assistants you and I know all too well that he will not leave to rest unless he is physically removed from the premesis. And even then he would not go quietly."

Raoul looked down into his cup, and smiled. "He would not. He knows though that this time he will have to rest, in order to be able to do what has to be done tomorrow. He must have a steady hand for that."

Again Padstowe nodded.

"We could insist that he take Crozier's hammock in the dispensary," he said after a moment's pause. "He knows he must rest, but he will not go far. If he rests in the dispensary he will only be feet away from an assistant's summon. Do you think he will agree to that?"

Raoul grimaced. "I think it would be better for him to be well away, where they cannot summon him for the least little thing, but he will not want that. Perhaps the cot in the dispensary will be best - although if you can frighten the assistants into letting him sleep..."

"I'm not exactly sure how frightening I could be in at moment," Padstowe said, looked at his sling with a grimace. "But I am sure I could do my best. Maybe relate to them that the undisturbed rest of Dr. Maturin will mean the life or death of their surgeon - which it will."

"And the well-being of our - of Dr Maturin," Raoul added. "He said to me that he had looked forward to a time of rest and quiet while we sailed north. I have to admit that I hoped for that too." He smiled at Padstowe. "But first, we must persuade the doctor to want to rest."

"There is that," Padstowe replied, taking a sip of coffee. "I think we were all rather wishing for that, but such is life."

He experimentally tried to move the fingers of his left hand. They were stiff, and he took on a pained expression as the discomfort shot up his arm - yet unlike before it was not unbearable.

"But yes, persuasion. How to do it... Who will he listen to most?"

"I would expect him to listen to you. I have had very little success," Raoul said, smiling faintly. "Even when he was practically dead on his feet, he would not stop. The thing is ... he knows he must rest. Mr Crozier is his responsibility, but it is all the other demands being made on him."

Padstowe was not quite certain what Raoul meant exactly by 'all the other demands', but being the only well surgeon on a ship could not necessarily make things any easier.

"I do not know if he will listen to a patient, but we must both try. In the meantime though, it may do for us to have a word with both his assistants - in order to make sure he is not called for every little incident, as I expect they are both perfectly capable of dealing with most minor injuries without referring to the doctor."

"If I may suggest... I do not think that the Navy holds the Army in great respect. Even the British Army. But Captain Bolitho, or one of the lieutenants - the assistants would do listen to them. And they would listen to you, Captain." Raoul frowned. "I do not think though that we should lay too much stress on the injuries that Dr Maturin has received. He would not I think wish it to be generally known. Just on his tendency to wear himself out..."

"That is perfectly understood between the doctor and myself," Padstowe said, then added a little reluctantly. "Though I have not done well to keep it in mind recently. I have been, I find, a remarkably bad patient, and my behaviour towards him of a very ill nature despite his own concerns."

He knew that no specific mention of Lisbon was necessary.

"Yet he may take me off the list of his troubles now, and I will endeavour to repay his tolerance by doing what I can to make it even shorter for him. I will speak to one of the lieutenants - George I judge would be the best; there is a certain gravity that can only come with grizzled years."

[About 4.30pm Friday 19/5: aka one bell in the First Dog Watch]

"I am sure he will help; as you say, in certain circumstances youth is not an advantage. They will I am sure listen to him." Times on board ship were mysterious, but the men had gone to supper, which would be earlier today, without the interruption of the departure from Lisbon. Their own would be not long delayed. "We can talk to him - or you can - when he comes to the Wardroom for supper. But we must insist that Dr Maturin does not forget to eat: it is something he does forget, quite often."

Raoul hesitated and said, glancing at the Marine left in the Wardroom by Quinn: "I should speak to the doctor anyway - he will be concerned to know what Captain Bolitho has decided to do about me. If I go to tell him to come to supper, he will see for himself that I am not in irons..."

"It would be advisable to - else he forget entirely that he is subject to the constraints of mortal physiology."

Padstowe's eyes followed Raoul's gaze to the Marine.

"Do you wish for me to accompany you?"

Raoul nodded. "If you wish - our presence together might be sufficient to lure the doctor from his patient." He stood up, lifting the sword, and added: "I will put this in my cabin. The sick bay is at the other end of the ship - the front end, I suppose." In the cabin he unfastened his pelisse and dropped that on the cot, stowing the sword safely beneath it.

Padstowe drained his cup of coffee whilst Raoul attended to whatever was needed in his cabin, rising from the table as the Frenchman emerged again.

"We will beard the Lion in his den, so to speak... and I believe they refer to the front as 'forward' or the 'bow' of the ship."

Raoul relaxed as the Marine made no attempt to stop him leaving the wardroom with the Captain. "I will speak English, but - yes, I think I have read the term 'bow' in a book - I cannot remember it from my childhood. So that is how it is pronounced... "

He stood at the foot of the companionway, and hesitated. Between them and the sickbay were the messdecks, and the men, eating their own supper. "I think it will be better if we go up here, and walk along the deck above this. That is the way we went earlier, though I am sure we could..."

Padstowe looked down at the sailors busily eating and chatting amongst themselves.

"I think you are right, and we had better not disturb," he said quietly, strightening up a gain and heading for the forward companionway. "It will be more fuss than it is worth to negotiate that lot; plus Lord knows what rumours they may have heard by now."

"It seemed from the Sergeant's attitude that this Marine is known as a trouble-maker - but the British sailor might prefer a British Marine who makes trouble for the Frenchman they do not want on their ship. Yet those I met in Lisbon seemed to have no problem with me..." Raoul waited for Padstowe to precede him up the companionway, still uncertain of the other's recovery.

"I think those you met in Lisbon were more typical of the British sailor," Padstowe said. He indicated to the companionway. "After you, capitaine, please. Whatever I their sentiments though, it is a lot simpler at the moment not to disturb them."